authorsnote: thanks sooo much to everyone who read/reviewed/fav'd/followed/enjoyed the first chapter! here is number 2. I do hope you enjoy it and pls let me know if you do, your words of encouragement are always my fav!

songrecs: clementine - halsey (if you haven't listened to her album 'manic' pls go do that now, it is so so good)

The sea is calm the further north they go, she isn't sure if that's because of the weather, the tides of the way the sailors handle the ship but it is comforting in a way, that calmer seas greet her as she returns closer to home, not that she really sees the waves on the journey.

She stays below deck, in her cabin, hidden away from the crew and the few men travelling so far north. She keeps her cloak about her, hair covered even as she sleeps, and she avoids leaving her little cabin, takes meals in her room, doesn't go above deck, even though she often wants to, wants to see the South becoming small in her view, wants to see the North as they reach it. She longs for some fresh air, longs to leave this cramped little space, but she doesn't, she needs to be careful, the air will be plenty fresh when she reaches Jon.

Jon.

She didn't know what to expect when she arrived at the Wall. She was sure he'd be a ranger, following in the footsteps of her Uncle Benjen but beyond that she didn't know how he'd be, how different he might be. But she knew he'd protect her.

As children she regretted her actions towards him, she had been a snob, snooty and awful, but there had been some nice moments too, and she hoped Jon remembered those, the moments she had laughed with him, played with him, she hoped he remember those moments over the times she had stuck her nose up at him.

It was a credit to Jon's good character that Sansa knew he wouldn't turn her away, not when she showed up, humble pie swallowed long ago, desperate for help, but not just that. She probably had a better chance if she went to her aunt in the Vale, she didn't just want help, she wanted family, familiarity, someone she knew and cared for, no more strangers and people she didn't know. She wanted to be with Jon, they were the only Stark's left now, they should stick together.

The Stark pack, so scattered and lost, it felt wrong, to see the wolves torn apart, but with Jon, two would be together, and two was enough for a pack.

She would go to Jon, she wasn't sure if he'd keep her in a keep nearby, or a town, or perhaps he'd negotiate to keep her at the Wall. She did almost wrinkle her nose at that idea, of working and being around the men of the Watch, but then she thought back to Kings Landing, to the evil Lannister's, and she knew anything was better than them.

That was what she had to keep telling herself. As she hid in the little cabin below deck, as she contemplated that her future was unmapped, unplanned, as she realised that perhaps she wouldn't be treated like a noble Lady once she reached Jon … it was all better than the alternative, all better than being stuck with the Lannister's, the family who'd made her life hell.

As night fell, she lay in bed, still in her dress, not daring to strip down to her small clothes, door locked, curled among the threadbare blankets that were at least clean. She lay in bed, staring up at the wooden ceiling, the gentle swish of the waves actually soothing as she slowly shut her eyes.

In her dreams they came to her.

Robb, so full of life, so full of justice for their father, dead, wolves head on his body. Her mother, Lady Catelyn, brushing her hair 100 times, throat cut and dumped in the river. Bran, her cheeky brother, crippled and broken and burned, along with Rickon, little Rickon, life snatched away. Father, head cut, rotting on the walls. Arya, probably dead in a ditch somewhere. Theon, a traitor to them all. Septa, Jeyne, Maester Luwin, Jory … all dead, all gone.

Most nights after thinking of her family, dead and gone, leaving her alone, all alone, she'd wake, sometimes screaming, most times simply in tears. She'd wake after an hour or two, tears on her cheeks, hands shaking, unable to sleep anymore.

But not this night.

This night, her dreams turned, twisted. She thought of Joffrey, with his cruel sneer. Cersei, laughing at her, mocking. Jaime, with his equally taunting gaze to his twin. Tywin, cold and harsh. She thought of the court doves, laughing at her, of those that called her a traitor, of those that ridiculed her.

But then, again her dreams twisted, and another face came to mind, one she hadn't seen in years, and yet would be reunited with soon.

"Jon" She mumbled in her sleep, and she smiled then. Tears still trickled down her cheeks, and yet she smiled, she stopped shaking, as she thought of Jon, of how she was sure he'd shield her, keep her in his protection and safe. She knew once she reached Jon no one would be able to touch her. Not the Lannister's, not the Frey's, not the Bolton's, not the Iron Born, no one. Jon would look after her.

Though perhaps she needed to look after herself a little. As she thought of Jon, dreamed, she thought of the Wall, how hard it might be, and she knew she would need to adapt. Jon would keep her safe, protect her, but she would need to protect herself a little as well. But not with courtesies, in the North they would be useless, here she'd need to protect herself in different ways, perhaps with a little charm and honest work.

Honesty … for so long the politics in Kings Landing, the backstabbing, the second guessing, it had all lead her to be a liar, to hide her true feelings, to twist the truth. That would be no good to her now, she knew that, she'd need to find her northern routes once more, and again she smiled in her sleep; Jon would help her, he'd help her find home again.

Home.

There was no going back to Winterfell, not now, maybe not ever. Burnt by the Iron Born, now taken by the Bolton's. But home didn't just have to be a Keep, it could be more, it could be a feeling, and she knew if that were true then Jon would help her find that feeling.

"Jon" She mumbled again, still caught in sleep, and as hours passed, and she managed half a nights sleep before she awoke, she thought it was one of the best slumbers she'd had in a while, she hoped once she reached Jon she'd get a whole night.

"Jon" She whispered as the morning sun began to rise, as she huddled in the cabin, as she sat up in bed, "Jon" His name was like a prayer on her lips, of safety, of protection, of comfort … of home.

By the time he reached home, his new home, Castle Black, he could barely sit in his saddle. His leg ached from the arrow, he was exhausted, dehydrated, hungry and ready to collapse. And collapse he did once he reached the gate, once he heard the shout to open, once he saw his brothers rush to his side. He tried to smile, to greet them, but instead he just fell, and darkness swallowed.

He only caught snatches of the next few days. Of the arrow being pulled from his leg, which had woken him up in a flurry of swear words before he fell back down. Of water being dripped into his chapped lips and dry throat that he drank like a dying man and then spluttered back up. Of Sam's voice, kind and reassuring, and Maester Aemon, hovering over him, blind but seeing all.

It was an odd few days, drifting in and out of seeing and hearing everything. It was on day five he awoke, the harsh cold chilling his bones as he managed to pull the blanket up to cover the cold, his eyes opening, roaming his small room at Castle Black, his leg painful yes but not nearly as much as he deserved. When he awoke, he felt better than he had the right to be, until Sam came to him.

It was a cold morning, as he dressed, back in black, the wildling furs long gone. He had a small limp, his hair was cut a little, and he spoke of Robb as Sam waited for him. Oh Robb, how he missed him, how he wished he could have been with him, how it killed him that he hadn't. And yet he was here, for the Watch, he had betrayed Ygritte for the Watch, for his brothers, and now he had to explain that.

He was pretty sure they wouldn't believe a word he said, but he had to try.

He limped his way to the main hall, shook his head as Sam offered to wait, and then there he was, stood in front of Maester Aemon, Othell Yawyck, Janos Slynt and Allistair Thorne. He knew he'd have a hard time convincing the latter two, but he would try, for what else could he do? This was more than his execution now, more than saving his own arse, there was more to it.

This was duty.

And so he ignored the jibes, resisted the urge to roll his eyes as they prattled on and instead tried to hammer the very simple point home; the wildlings were coming, they were large in number and it was very likely they would win. He didn't care that they mocked his time with Ygritte, that they questioned his allegiance, as much as it did annoy him a little he knew keeping his pride was less important than ensuring they got what he was trying to say.

He wasn't entirely sure they did, and he knew this wouldn't be the first time he raised this issue, but at the very least he kept his head. He nodded as he was let go, as Maester Aemon cut him loose,

'None of us are free'

That was the right of it, none of them were free, they were all bound to the Wall, all bound to their duty, to their vows and to each other, their brothers. He had known that when he had gone to the wildlings, he had known that when he had been with Ygritte, and he had known it when he left her

'Duty is the death of love' Seemed more apt at the moment than the other way around, his duty had certainly been the death of his love, and here he was again, back behind the Wall, back in black, a crow once more.

Was there anything he'd abandon his vows for? He had considered it for Robb, but he hadn't, he had stayed as a new brother. For Ygritte part of him had wanted to, to simply be with her and forget any cause, but the larger part had always stayed loyal to his vows. Was there anything? Anyone out there that he would turn his back on his brothers for? That he would give up this cause? As important as it was? Would there be any reason?

In that moment he didn't think so, but he didn't realise that soon, soon he would find out.

"Eastwatch by the Sea!" The Captain called, and Sansa knew it was time, time to emerge from the cabin she had spent far too long in. Her blood was fizzing in her veins, and she felt nerves in her belly that had been a constant companion in Kings Landing but had faded as she went North. She was North now, further than she had ever been, but it was still the North, still home. She was home in a way.

She could hear the ship dock, hear the bustle of the crew overhead and she quickly gathered her things, her small bag, stuffed with valuables that she hadn't taken off, not once. She slipped on her shoes, gathered her dress around her and her cloak, never pulling it down, always covering her distinctive hair. That was all she had.

Once she'd had any dress she needed, all manner of jewels, everything she could ever want, and now she was reduced to this. And yet she felt more comfortable with nothing and so close to home, than she had as a prisoner in Kings Landing with everything she had ever wanted. Kings Landing had been a prison, the bars of her cage may have been gilded, but it had been a cage all the same, here she would be free, and with Jon.

She hesitated just for a second as she reached the cabin door … she didn't know what to expect here. She had faith in Jon of course, but what about other people? Would they sell her back to the Lannister's? Would they even know who she was? She didn't know what to expect nor what to anticipate, and yet she knew she needed to be brave, she needed to be strong.

'Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren't they?'

She had to remember that, she is a wolf, and she would be brave. At that she felt stronger, and she knew she needed to be strong, there was no hesitation no, she couldn't afford it, and so she took a deep breath, took a second to compose herself and took her first gulp of fresh air in days.

It was wonderful, and so, so cold. She had never been this far North, and she had forgotten what a Northern wind felt like. It was nothing shy of magical. Snow whipped around her, and she felt like she was home, she could practically taste it in the icy air. She was a Stark, the cold she could handle, and as she stepped onto deck, she let out a little gasp, it was truly freezing, and yet it felt right.

For so long Sansa had longed to go South, to escape the dreary North. She had longed to attend tourney's, to meet handsome Knights and spend her days frolicking in the sun, it was only after getting what she wished did she realise how wrong she had been. 'Be careful what you wish for' Her mother had said once, and Sansa knew she was right. Only upon coming to the South did she realise how awful it was.

Yes, at first it had been just as she had hoped, Knights in painted armour, candles in hundreds of windows, beautiful dresses and parties with dancing and song. But as time went on, she could see the real South. Full of liars and cruelty, the air stunk and the people here had no honour, no kindness, no code to their actions. Soon she could see the Knights for what they were; showoffs who only wanted applause. She saw the candles in the windows and realised just how many people were living in squalor. The parties and dance and song were full of people scheming and plotting. It was all wrong, and not what she had imagined, not what she had wished for, but it had been to late by then.

But now she was North again, in the cold air, with the snow drifting down. Her father had always spoke with a reverence about the North, for she was untamed, the fiercest and largest of the kingdoms. Sansa had rolled her eyes at his pride for his lands, never seeing it, but now she knew, he had been right, he had been right to say their kingdom was to be proud of, for it was.

And something to be proud of stood behind her, and as she turned, she let out a strangled gasp, and her hands flew to her chest. She heard the Captain laugh, but she couldn't even respond.

It was the Wall.

It was magnificent, almost blue in colour, with dozens of hues and shades of ice. It was so tall. She remembered when she was younger, when she had been walking in the yard, clutching her mothers' hand and Ser Rodrick had smiled down at her and she was sure she'd never seen anything so tall in her life. It was kind of like that as she looked up at the Wall. It was wonderful, a sight truly to behold, and she couldn't help but stare for several minutes, before the Captain nudged her shoulder.

"Go on now girl, the lift is going, ask for a horse and then ride, be careful of the lads" He offered in warning and she managed a small smile at his words and a nod, she knew she should have kept quiet, kept her head down and moved on, but she couldn't help herself.

"Thank you" Her voice was gentle, and she offered him a smile, to which he nodded and smiled back, before turning back to his boat.

She couldn't stop looking at the Wall, and the Captain, the boat, it was all long forgotten as she approached the lift, as it took her and a few others up to the top of the Wall. Fortunately, no one asked her any questions, and she offered some silver and was given a mule in return. Another lift took her to the other side of the Wall, and from there it was time to ride.

Thankfully, she was alone in this, and she had managed to buy some food at Eastwatch, as well as a blanket and a sleeping roll. No one asked her any questions, she kept her head down and didn't make trouble, that seemed to be the way to go, and she knew she was lucky that the men here were too busy to pay her much mind, and soon she was on a poorly kept road, leading from the base of Eastwatch on the right side of the Wall, all the way to Castle Black. The man who'd given her the mule had told her it would take about three days.

Three days and she'd be with Jon, she'd be safe.

She felt safer here than she had before, for she was so far from the South now, so far from King's Landing. She was in the North, her home, and she was lost on the wind. No one knew her here, the Lannister's didn't know where she was, no one did, she was free, and she had just three days, and then she'd be with Jon, and no one could ever touch her again.

With one last look at Eastwatch she mounted her mule, strapped her provisions to the creature, took a sip of water before strapping that skin down too, and then she nudged her heels and they were off. The mule kept a good pace, and soon she was travelling next to the Wall, through the country. The snow was thick, and the road poorly kept but it was enough. She was thankful now more than ever that her father insisted she learn how to ride, even when she complained it cut short her harp lessons, what a stupid little girl she had been. She thanked her lucky stars her father hadn't relented, and she had learned, it certainly came in handy now.

She did feel a little out of her depth, she was thankful to travel alone but it was odd, and it felt strange, she had never travelled alone, and it had been so long since she had been anywhere alone. But she would do what she had to do, to reach Jon. She may be frightened; she may be scared but she could also be brave.

'Can a man be brave if he is afraid?'

'That is the only time a man can be brave?'

With her father's words ringing in her ears Sansa urged the mule on, soon she would be safe, soon she'd be protected, soon she would be with Jon.

Just over a week since he had returned and Jon felt to be back at home again.

Sure, some had glared at him now he was returned, some had tried to mock, but most had welcomed him, given him a pat on the back and embraced him. He had laughed with his brothers over dinner, trained with them in the yard, smiled with them at breakfast. He was home.

For the longest time he had struggled to think of the Wall as home, always equating home with Winterfell. In truth part of him still did, but now? Now the Wall felt like home too, with his brothers, with the cold, with his friends.

'Hush now, you're home' Sam had said when he returned, exhausted, freezing, arrow in his thigh and half dead, and now more than ever it felt like the truth, like he was home, like as much as he missed Winterfell, this was home now.

And now it was the home of another too.

Olly, just a boy, who had lost his parents too soon. Jon felt for him and kept a hand of solidarity on his shoulder as they spoke. He hated having to deny the boy justice, and usually he wouldn't have. His father had taught him the importance of seeing justice done, of seeing it done yourself, but now, there simply wasn't the time or the resources. The wildlings were coming, at least he saw that everyone was taking that fairly seriously, and so he could only offer Olly some support. Justice would have to wait.

A horn sounded as they spoke, and they all hurried to the gate. "Rangers returning" Pyp cried out and they all hurried to greet them. Jon felt relief, a deep relief as Ed and Grenn stumbled through, cold and exhausted as he had been, and yet a little more beat up. His relief soon vanished as he realised the implication of the situation, the wildlings were coming, and soon they'd realise what an easy victory they'd have. He could see Allistair Thorne realised it too, and then he knew they were truly fucked.

"Fuck" He mumbled to himself, as he looked over at his brothers, "Even if we each kill a hundred wildlings it won't be enough" He said with a shake of his head, and Pyp's words confirmed it. They were fucked, they could only hold the wildlings off, and they could only do that if Mance Rayder thought their numbers were far better than they were. They had to ride back out past the gate, further North, and kill the mutineers before they could spill the secrets of the Watch to the wildlings.

That was what they must do, and yet as she was about to say so another horn sounded, this time at the front gate, and then a hurried messenger, who looked completely bewildered came down.

"Theres someone at the front gate" He said, looking as though he had no idea what to say.

"Might want to be a bit more specific" Thorne said cuttingly, and the messenger nodded.

"A girl" Jon raised an eyebrow at that, what would a girl be doing asking for admittance to Castle Black? Was it a Mole's Town whore perhaps? Or someone else who'd escaped the Thenns?

"A girl?" Thorne repeated back, as bewildered as the messenger, they all looked like it.

"Aye" The messenger said, and then he turned to look at Jon, "And she's asking for you"

sooo thoughts?

I know I'm awful! but this is all vital set up, and next chapter it's reunionnnnnnn time. omg I'm so hype, part of me wishes I didn't know what happens next, but alas.

pls review and let me know what you thought, did you love/like? I'd also be curious to know what direction you think this story is going to go!

pls fav/follow and all that jazz, always appreciated

speak soon